In France They Kiss On Main Street
by Plesiosaur
Summary: Bubbline one shot fluff! Did anyone ever do something for you that was equal parts adorable and cheesy? Bonnibel hasn't got time for a holiday, Marceline hasn't got the patience to wait.


**This Autmn, Based On A True Story. A Fluffy New One Shot From The Author Who Brought You _Foundlings_ and _Math._**

 **Did anyone ever do something for you that was equal parts adorable and cheesy? The title of this one is taken from a Joni Mitchell song and I'm not even sorry because she is wonderful and can do no wrong. Also I apologise to every French person on the planet for this, I really do.**

 **Pure fluff! Leave me reviews and make a socially awkward fanfic author hide under her duvet because a person said a thing to her. I wish I was kidding.**

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That first year after graduating university was hardest, financially speaking. It was pretty good in other ways though, like having an actual real career job and sharing a tiny apartment with just her best friend Bonnibel after Marshall finally got his own place with Fionna. It was nice that they'd stayed close and convenient that they'd both gotten into the same university but honestly sometimes Marceline just wanted some space from her twin. People always said they were too alike and people always said Marcy was _so annoying_. If both of those things were true then it completely explained why she couldn't be in the same room as Marshall for more than a few hours without wanting to murder him and hide his body in the woods. He knew better than anyone how to get under her skin.

The new job didn't come with great pay but a being a part time technical assistant at an independent record label was all about making contacts anyway and Marcy was good at charming people when she wanted to. It just a shame she couldn't charm Bonnie into taking an evening off every now and then. But she genuinely loved it, she knew how lucky she was to find paid work in the music industry even if it was only part time.

Marceline had a lot of free time when she wasn't in the studio. Bonnie worked all hours. Her PhD research was intense and completely impenetrable to Marceline, something involving protein interactions and chemical exposure and quite possibly some kind of magic or witchcraft, Marceline wouldn't have been able to tell the difference anyway. She missed the company of her oldest friend, missed the way her heart felt like it was thumping so hard she would go dizzy whenever Bonnie did that special quiet smile. And the more she thought about it the more painfully obvious it was to her that her feelings may not be entirely completely platonic. Because who thought about their best friend like that in the shower? Or alone at night, unable to sleep with excitement because they had some stupid small extravagance planned for the next day, like buying an ice cream together.

In the end the tension was unbearable. Marceline decided there were really only two things she could do; leave before she went insane or do something about it. Leaving was entirely out of the question, she wouldn't know where to go or what to do with herself. So she planned and plotted and finally decided that she was going to have to somehow try to make something happen between them. It was a terrifying prospect but Marceline figured that if Bonnie could stand to be her best friend for a decade then even if she didn't feel the same then she'd probably be nice about letting her down gently.

Probably.

So when the day came that everything seemed perfect she put her well rehearsed plan into action. Marceline spent her free afternoon cooking an elaborate dinner, picked out the perfect bottle of wine to match the baked salmon and accompanying side dishes. She painstakingly selected music; something relaxing but upbeat, retro but not overplayed. She showered extra thoroughly, fixed her hair and make up, picked out an outfit she knew she looked good in. Waited for Bonnibel to come home, heart hammering every time she thought she could hear footsteps on the stairwell or the scrape of a key in the front door.

So when her phone buzzed with a rushed and somewhat garbled message about some laboratory emergency and not being home till very late Marcy was pretty hurt and let down. But she couldn't bring herself to be angry with Bonnie, being a real genuine scientist was what she'd always wanted and Marceline was glad Bonnie was following her dreams. So instead she sat alone in their tiny apartment and ate ornately presented salmon and drank the whole bottle of wine alone. And she planned.

It was obvious she'd overlooked Bonnibel's workaholic tendencies with this surprise dinner and that was just bad planning, something she could have smacked herself in the face for not considering. Now she just had to think of an angle that would make Bonnie stop and pay attention and not be thinking of obscure science stuff when Marcy was trying to make her intentions apparent. She needed something that would genuinely sweep her off her feet. And that was hard, how do you romance someone so logical and analytical, someone who always has at least two hundred thoughts at once?

When they'd first met all those years ago Bonnibel had told her something horrifying and totally unbelievable to a little girl whose distant but wealthy father had always thrown money at her instead of affection, who'd had her first trip to the Rio Carnival at five months old.

Bonnie had never ever been out of the country. Not even set a foot across a single border. Marceline was appalled when she'd found out and they'd immediately started planning all kinds of exotic trips together; the minute they had time they'd go some place amazing and have an adventure, just the two of them. But then of course life had gotten in the way and somehow no matter that they'd laid some excellent plans it just hadn't happened. So in her brooding and somewhat drunk state Marceline resolved to finally give Bonnie a foreign adventure.

But Bonnie wouldn't take a night off even to have dinner with her room mate. Kidnapping her to the airport was completely out of the question no matter how tempting. So what could she do instead?

Marceline smiled wickedly to herself when the answer came to her, then downed the rest of her wine and set about preparing the fine details.

...

 _Today is saturday thats what we non scientists call the weekend I insist that you spend the evening at home cuz I have a surprise for you let me know when youre on your way x x_

Ominous. Bonnie slid her phone back into her pocket with a confused sigh; Marceline was just as cryptic as ever. It could be nothing but then it could just as easily be something important. It made her anxious. Bonnibel hated mysteries almost as much as she hated missing punctuation.

She checked her progress against the strict research timetable she'd drawn up. The cell cultures were still growing at a steady rate and her SDS protein gels were already run, sitting waiting patiently in the cold room to be analysed. As usual she'd already set up everything for the next morning, mixed her chemical reagents and written up today's notes in a small neat hand. There were things Bonnie could be doing in the lab to make her project run more smoothly but the promise of spending the night chilling with her much neglected friend was pretty tempting, for once she could honestly say she was in a good place to take a break. So after a minute's consideration she sent a quick and well punctuated reply to confirm she was coming home and set about washing her glassware and cleaning up the lab before shouldering her unpleasantly heavy bag and trudging out into the cold rain to catch the bus, mind churning over what the mysterious surprise could be.

She was half frozen and soaked to the skin when she finally closed the door of their little apartment, shivering as she hung up her coat and bag. The rain hadn't seemed too bad when she'd left the lab but it had really started to come down in buckets the moment she stepped off the bus at the end of their road. The hall was wonderfully warm and smelled of Marceline's surprisingly excellent cooking, she was so very glad she'd agreed to come home instead of staying at uni any longer.

Bonnie's heart lifted when the delicious scent hit her nose; whatever it was Marcy had planned it couldn't be too terrible if she'd taken the time to cook a meal. Still her stomach did a few nervous back flips anyway and she told herself it was because she didn't know what Marceline wanted to talk to her about and she hated surprises. No other reason and definitely not because of any left over teenage crushes from when her hormones had gone mental a few years ago. She shook her head to clear those thoughts, they were too distracting. They were friends and nothing else.

Wandering into the kitchen with her long braid still draping damply across her shoulders Bonnie stopped in confusion. She stared around, wondering whose kitchen she'd accidentally come into because it certainly didn't look like her own.

When she'd left the apartment that morning the kitchen looked like a dirty plate bomb had gone off in it, as was pretty standard when she was too busy with research to be home and clean. Now it was spotless and full of newly purchased groceries. Croissants, baguettes and onions were very much in evidence. As was a grinning and ridiculous Marceline who was apparently now sporting a beret and a thin pencil moustache.

"I don't even- what the stuff?" she asked her friend, mouth agape. Marceline had cleaned, cooked, bought French foodstuffs?

"Bonjour mein cherry! Tonight you are having a night off! In le Paris." Marceline replied, grin growing if possible even wider like she hadn't even noticed that she'd slipped the odd German word in there.

Bonnie just stared at her and her drawn on eye liner moustache. She'd remember that Bonnie had once said if she could go anywhere in the world it would be Paris? But that had been years ago, how did Marceline manage to remember that kind of stuff and yet still forget her Dad's birthday every single year? This was pure solid gold Marceline, so crazy it was actually contagious. And so culturally insensitive, so cheesy.

"This is completely nuts. Are you seriously taking me to Paris? Because you know I have to be back in the lab tomorrow." she finally managed to stutter out.

"Non non, mon petit lapin. I know you can't go to le Paris right now. So I decided to bring Paris to you!"

It was so insane that Bonnie didn't even mind being called a little rabbit.

She was stuck between not having the energy to play along and getting sucked into another one of Marcy's crazy schemes. But it was hard not to when she saw the note of pleading in those soft green eyes and saw how much trouble her friend had gone to arranging this surprise for her, not least how much of her limited budget she must have burned for this little stunt. And the wispy little moustache was kinda adorable even if it was horrifyingly stereotypical.

"Onion soup?" Bonnie asked with a raised eyebrow, lifting the lid of the nearest pan and inhaling deeply. It smelled heavenly, Bonnie could never work out why Marceline chose to live almost entirely off Chinese takeaway when she was secretly an amazing chef.

"Oui! With baguettes and some rather nice merlot that I already tried because I had to check it was good enough for you." Marcy replied with a wink. And Bonnie noticed she was wearing a black and white striped sweater too, oh god it was just so cheesy. But sweet, definitely the sweetest thing anyone had done for her for a long time. "Go clean up and get changed, dinner will be served _sans un moment_. That's French for in a minute." she added helpfully with another lopsided grin, busying herself with ladling the soup and grabbing wine glasses.

"No it's not, Marce." Bonnie mumbled to herself with a fond smile, wandering off to her bedroom to find some dry clothes, already beginning to catch that infectious grin.

When Bonnie had finished changing she wandered into the lounge to their tiny second hand dining table. Marceline was there already, with two bowls of onion soup and two glasses of a deep red wine. She'd even lit candles and bought a tablecloth. Bonnie was unsure what to think, why had her friend gone to so much effort?

The lounge had been transformed too, there were fairy lights strung across the ceiling and soft string music was playing from the stereo, something relaxing and yes very Parisian. There was even a poster of the Eiffel Tower tacked crookedly over the window, it was certainly a better view than the rows of messy yards their neighbours kept.

"You weren't in the studio today then?" she asked cautiously, sitting and picking up her soup spoon. She fiddled with it nervously until Marcy took up her own and started eating, there was still every chance this was all some elaborate prank and the soup was laced with fart powder or something.

"Yeah for a couple of hours this morning. But I wasn't working, I got Jermaine to help record me playing for a while. Been ages since I touched a viola but it came out pretty nicely." She nodded towards the stereo.

"That's you?" Bonnie asked in surprise around a mouthful of excellent soup. She could sometimes forget just how talented her friend was, as if she could pick up any instrument and just master it without any effort. Bonnie didn't even know Marceline played the viola but she wasn't too shocked when she thought about it for a second; Marceline played everything.

The other girl just nodded a little smugly and tore off a chunk of baguette, dunking it in her soup and watching it soak up the liquid to cover her slight embarrassment. For someone who dreamed of being a famous rock star she was awfully shy about people she knew hearing her play, it had taken months of begging before she'd let Bonnibel listen to her first demo tape.

"You're crazy good." Bonnie murmured, a little embarrassed herself although she was struggling to put her finger on why.

They ate in silence for a while, listening to the music and enjoying the food. It was nice, comfortable, but Bonnibel felt like she was picking up on some kind of tension between them. Her friend was nervous and she didn't know why, it was obvious from the way Marceline's eyes skittered around the room every now and then, the way her leg bounced restlessly and she fiddled with her cutlery. Once the soup was finished and they'd demolished the baguette Bonnie stood and reached for the dishes but Marcy beat her to them, grabbing the offending items and hurrying off to the kitchen.

"Here, let me help." Bonnie said with a laugh. "You cooked, it would be rude of me to let you wash up too."

"I'll wash them later. Thought we could watch a film." Marceline replied, although her back was turned and there was some obvious tension in the lines of her shoulders. Definitely tense, Bonnie decided. Tense and nervous, perhaps she was about to drop some kind of awful news like that she was moving to the other side of the country for work. Well there was never any point hurrying Marceline, she'd tell Bonnie whatever it was when she was good and ready.

Bonnie frowned but agreed to let herself be led to the sofa without argument. A film sounded nice too. It had been ages since they'd had a night in, just the two of them. Come to think of it, it had been ages since they did anything just the two them. Bonnie was always working and Marceline was more often than not out playing a gig when she got home so they usually only saw each other to say a quick hello on a morning. It twisted Bonnie's insides into guilty knots, she should make more effort to be a better friend. She missed going to the gigs and watching Marcy play, missed reading quietly while listening to her rehearse in the next room.

Marcy had picked out _Amelie_ , definitely not her most original idea. But it was a sweet film and they sat together on their cramped lumpy sofa with another glass of wine each and a shared blanket across their legs, watching the well known story unfold with a light murmur of conversation between them. When the film finally ended neither of them made any move to get up, sitting snugly knee to knee in the low glow cast by the fairy lights.

"This was really wonderful, Marce. I'm really beginning to like our apartment being France." Bonnie said with a smile, wondering how much alcohol was in her third glass of wine to make her want to giggle like a schoolgirl. She meant it though; it was absolutely lovely.

"You're very welcome." Marcy murmured back, smiling down at her lap and avoiding eye contact.

Bonnie felt the strain in her friend's words, like there was a lot she was holding back from saying. Marceline had always been a little awkward but she'd never had any trouble opening up to Bonnie in the past the way she did with everyone else. She didn't want to rush her friend but the not knowing was eating away at Bonnie. She hated not knowing things.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently, letting her hand fall onto the other girl's knee and ignoring the heat that randomly flared in her cheeks. Just an effect of the wine, she told herself sternly.

Marceline sighed before she replied, putting her empty glass down on the coffee table and threading her long fingers together anxiously. "I had something else French that I wanted to give you but I don't know if you'll like it and I'm sort of worried it'll be a bit rubbish. I've been holding on to it for a while but I think you should have it, really." she confessed after a moment.

"That's sweet of you Marcy but you didn't have to spend any money on me, I know you're not exactly making a fortune right now." Bonnie replied with a small smile. It was so nice that she'd gotten a present for Bonnie but now she felt bad that she had nothing to give in return.

"No, I didn't buy it. It- ok well it's probably just easier to show you. Close your eyes and don't hate me if you don't like it, yeah?" she took a deep steadying breath when she finished talking. Really nervous about the present then, she must be really unsure if Bonnie would like it.

Obediently Bonnibel closed her eyes and waited, wondering what this mysterious French object could be. If it was something clichéd like a bulb of garlic she'd probably be quite disappointed.

She frowned a little when she felt Marceline move around on the sofa and lean forwards a little. She almost jumped out of her skin when something bumped into her nose an instant before something warm and soft and lovely brushed against her lips, eyes flying open in shock but not quite pulling away when she saw with absolute clarity that her oldest and closest friend was leaning in to kiss her, of all the most insane things that could be happening. Marceline's breath was sweet and intoxicating in a completely different way to the alcohol. Bonnie found she was struggling to form a coherent thought.

Oh, but now she could distantly feel her brain making the connections. _French kiss. Actually that's pretty clever._

And she wasn't pulling back or stopping, in fact her own lips were beginning to move against the kiss and it was easier to just let her eyes flutter closed again and enjoy the dizzying sensation of that sweet mouth on her own, tasting like the wine they'd shared and still somehow soft and feminine despite the lingering onion and garlic. It was just crazy to be sitting here making out with her best friend but it felt so nice and so different to what she'd expected, maybe she could call it an experiment? Ohh but then she wasn't remaining objective, she was opening herself to biased results because she was enjoying it far more than an impartial observer should and-

 _You're over thinking this._ Then her brain shut down completely and she was just moving by instinct.

Marceline squeaked adorably when Bonnie let her arms wind around her neck and pulled her in to deepen the kiss. _You want to French kiss? I'm surprisingly ok with that, it's actually really wonderful_. She felt like there was just an empty space in her head where a million thoughts were usually crammed. And she could feel her pulse racing, for some stupid reason all she could think was that Marceline must be able to feel how hot and weird her cheeks were. But it was easily the best kiss of her entire life and she was breathless by the time it ended, realising with distant embarrassment that she'd pulled Marceline down on top of her so they were half reclined and pressed together in a much less than chaste way.

They stared at each other for a moment before a fit of giggles overcame Bonnibel and she grabbed the front of Marcy's shirt, pulling her fully down to rest against her chest. Marceline's drawn on moustache was all over her face now and probably halfway across Bonnie's too but she couldn't have cared less. She felt wonderfully bubbly, like she wanted to get up and dance or just stay there forever or- well, maybe do some more of that amazing kissing.

"French kisses, Marceline? Seriously?" she giggled, tightening her hold on her very best friend in the world.

"Yeah well, I ran out of French things to give you." Marcy replied. She was a little muffled from where she was trying to hide her bright red face in Bonnie's sweater.

"You're the worst." Bonnie told her solemnly, making her voice just a little stern.

It was a ruse. As soon as Marceline lifted her head to stare at her and try to work out her tone Bonnie caught hold of her and returned to the kissing enthusiastically, that bubbly feeling still swirling around inside her. She decided right then that Paris was her favourite place in the whole world.

Years later when they finally did actually find time to visit Paris for real Bonnie found that as much as the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower was breathtaking it had absolutely nothing on her first kiss with Marcy. Or every other kiss since, really. And just to make sure, she kissed her again in front of the Paris skyline.


End file.
